All the Wild Horses
by Gnome Commander
Summary: AU: After a mental break down, the CEO of Winner Enterprises takes a much needed vacation. Who knew that an unexpected adventure and romance awaited him on a horse ranch half way across the country? Yaoi, eventual lemon. Eventual 3x4. 1x2, 5xSP, 6x9.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing. I just borrow the characters for a little while, but return them in better condition than I found them.

Summary: After suffering a mental breakdown and at the urging of a few of his friends, Quatre Winner takes a long needed sabbatical from Winner Enterprises Incorporated. As he spends time on a horse ranch in the middle of Colorado, he finds unexpected adventure and a whirlwind passion that sweeps him away. However, betrayal and danger wait in the shadows and their reach extends far beyond the busy streets of New York City.

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xSP, 6x9

Warnings: AU, probably some OOCness thrown in there. Eventual lemons (rating will change when it gets there), yaoi and slash, with some hetero thrown in there. If you don't like it, don't read it.

Author's Note at the end.

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Chapter One

* * *

He had driven here in silence, not bothering to turn on the radio or the CD player that came with the rental Jeep Wrangler. The gift Noin had bought him before leaving, a burned CD full of Bach music, still lay in his laptop case on the passenger seat. Teal eyes looked out of the windows constantly, but he wasn't looking out for other cars on the road—hell, he hadn't seen another car for an hour and a half outside of Salt Lake City. No, he was too busy looking around at the beautiful mountains and the fields of lush crops and pastures.

More than once he had to pull over and get out of the car just to look around, taking a few pictures with his digital camera and then another few on his Blackberry as he passed by small horse ranch where a few horses were grazing in the pasture. Quatre knew he looked like a complete tourist in his brown slacks and a button down, white shirt. Honestly, he didn't really care. This was his vacation and he damn well could look like a tourist if he wanted.

It was unheard of for Quatre Raberba Winner, heir and CEO of Winner Enterprises Incorporated to take a vacation. In the five years since his father's heart attack and retirement, Quatre had been working like a maniac from before dawn to well after midnight. Unlike other CEOs in other companies, he preferred to be heavily involved with the company and take an interest in his employees. He was often called soft-hearted by his Board of Advisors and the other company CEOs in New York, but he had just simply stated that he felt the company shouldn't be run another way. His father had done the same thing before him, after all.

The only time that he wasn't as heavily involved in the running of the company was when he was going through college and getting his Masters in Business Management, although he did do several minor projects at his father's request throughout his years at Harvard University. However, in his final two semesters, he had to take over WEI completely because of his father's heart attack. Iria, one of his several sisters, had moved to New York City from Kentucky to take care of his father and help him get acclimated into the position of being CEO at such a young age. However, he had done and managed to finish his Masters on time as well.

Teal eyes glanced to his GPS and he glanced at the first mailbox that appeared over the horizon on his right hand side. According to his ever trusty Garmin, he was approaching the quaint ranch that had been arranged to take him in for the next several weeks. If it weren't for Duo talking his boyfriend into helping him find a place to send Quatre to recover from his serious break down, perhaps he would be in some place a little more tropical to relax. After all, Heero still kept in touch with several men from his Special Forces unit that was formed in Iraq. He had said that this Barton fellow owed him a favor and that this would be more than enough for repayment, as well as good for Quatre to get away for a while without much access to internet.

And, after a glance at his phone and lack of service, his Blackberry wasn't going to be in much use either.

Heaving a sigh, he turned down the dirt road and tightened his seatbelt a little at the sight of the washed out, pot hole filled driveway. Glancing to his GPS, he couldn't help but raise a blond eyebrow at the words flashing at him. "Destination reached? Are you kidding me?" He glared at Garmin, then grumpily punched the off button and began his bumpy ride down the driveway.

It took him about ten minutes of more driving as he approached a rather large hill and crested over it, his eyes widening as a rather large red barn came into view with a quaint white farm house across the way from it. Beyond it were extensive pastures what seemed to be some trees on the edge of the horizon, though Quatre couldn't tell how close it really was. It was difficult to tell how near or far something was in this part of the country.

He smiled a bit, driving towards the farmhouse and he put the jeep in par before getting out. Lifting a hand to shield his eyes, he looked towards one of the closer paddocks where dust seemed to be coming from and his curiosity started to get the better of him. Uncaring that he was dressed in expensive business casual clothing, he made his way to the fence of the paddock.

Angry snorts and a loud, high pitched whinny reached his ears as Quatre approached to look over the high fence. Dust rose up in billowing clouds and engulfed him as the angry horse ran itself in circles around the round pen, screaming in anger and challenging whoever would hear it. He seemed drawn the beautiful creature, the fluidity of it's – no, Quatre noted, _her_ –movements was breathtaking. The pure power of her muscles as they bunched in her flanks and hindquarters as she moved was enough to send a shiver down the blond's spine.

Her color beneath the dirt and sweat that streaked heavily in her fur was that of the finest sand and her mane and tail, though knotted and in disarray, was that of the darkest ebony. She was poetry in motion, her stride was long and her elegance seemed to radiate from her even though she was angrier than a nest of hornets. Quatre leaned against the rail of the fence, in awe of the mare's beauty and grace as she reared up on her hind legs to lash at the air in a show of defiance to her captivity.

As she came down to all fours once more, she faced Quatre slightly to eye him and snorted almost in a derisive manner. His teal gaze met her amber eyes, the moment drawing out before she whickered lowly and took a step forward towards him. The young man carefully, slowly extended his hand as he was caught beneath the wild horse's spell and he let a gentle smile curve his lips upwards in response to yet another curious step towards him.

Step by step, the mare approached Quatre as they looked at one another. It was almost as if a connection had happened between them, as if part of their spirits intertwined and fed from one another. Just as his fingers were mere inches from her muzzle, there was a feminine voice that shouted a warning from nearby by and it caused the horse's head to jerk upwards as she startled. She whinnied loudly, the pitch hitting that strange scream again as she raised up on her hind legs to rear once more and lashed out with her front hooves.

The blond stumbled back a little, just as startled, and he looked up at the lashing hooves. He raised his forearms to protect his head as one seemed to lash towards him, but the impact seemed to come at him from his right side and he went down into the dirt hard by the fence post. The mare turned and bolted across the pen again to start running herself in circles once more, screaming in fear and anger at her containment as the wildness seemed to take over her mind once more.

Quatre groaned a little, trying to move but found he was pinned to the ground by something quite heavy. He coughed a little, trying to clear the dust that had risen into the air once more as he opened his eyes. What he saw caused his breath to hitch in his throat, his aqua gaze colliding with a cool emerald and he froze beneath body he was pinned by. Even if he hadn't been pushed to the ground by the lean body on top of his own, he would have been pinned in place by the intensity of that gaze. The effect of it wasn't lessened by the caramel bangs that slightly obscured it.

"What the hell do you think you were doing?" By Allah, the man had a voice to match the look in his eye; cool and firm.

"Huh?" That was Quatre's ever so intelligent response to the question. However, he was saved from making more of a fool of himself as a woman jogged over to them.

"Are you two alright?" She asked, her clear blue eyes looking from the strange man to Quatre himself and there was concern evident in her voice.

"Yes, I'm alright." Quatre said, trying reassure as he glanced up at her a little nervously. "Just a little shaken." He looked from the woman to the man, who rolled to the left to free him. The blond slowly got to his feet, dusting off his slacks and coughing a little to clear the dust from his lungs.

"I don't like to repeat myself," the man stated, his voice laced with a frigid type of anger that had Quatre looking to him again. The man stood, fixing the CEO in place with his gaze once more. "But what the hell did you think you were doing? And who the hell are you?"

"Trowa!" The woman hissed at him, obviously a rebuke to his coarse words and behavior. However, she stopped talking when he lifted a hand and merely settled for glaring at him instead with her hands on her hips.

Quatre could feel his cheeks heat up in embarrassment and he rubbed the back of his neck a little. "I really am sorry for causing such trouble, but I'm Quatre Winner. My friend Heero said that someone here would be expecting me and I think that maybe I've got the wrong place?" He smiled crookedly, looking from Trowa to the woman.

Trowa's eyebrow arched at him, his arms crossing against his chest and he looked the blond up and down slowly. "Yuy sent you? He never said anything to me about this." A noise caught his attention and he looked to the woman standing beside Quatre, then his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Cathy…"

Cathy smiled slightly at Trowa, then gently placed a hand on the Arabian man's shoulder. "Don't mind Trowa, he can be a bit of a bear when it comes to surprises like this. Mr. Yuy called me last week about this, so you're in the right place." She held out a hand to Quatre. "Catherine Barton, and this is Trowa."

Quatre shook her hand gently, smiling a little and looking relieved. "Thank you," He murmured, looking to Trowa, "I'm sorry again for the trouble. I thought somebody was over here, kicking up the dust." He looked towards the mare, who had stopped to let her head bow towards the ground and looked a little defeated. Instantly a flash of the echoing emotion seemed to flow through him and he felt a great deal of sympathy for the elegant creature.

The tall brunette watched Quatre, sizing him up slowly in thought before he shook his head. "Stay away from here and stay out of the paddocks unless Cathy or I with you." He turned, stalking towards the barn to disappear in the shadows and out of sight.

Cathy grimaced a little, looking at Quatre and she hooked her arm through his, then giving a slight tug towards the house. "Please excuse him," Sadness creeped into her eyes a little as she glanced towards the barn doors, "Trowa isn't exactly god with surprises and even worse when it comes to social situations."

"It's quite alright, Miss Barton. Heero is the same way, so it's nothing I'm not used to." Quatre smiled gently to reassure her, looking towards the house as she began to lead him towards it.

"Call me Cathy, please. There's no need to be formal."

He smiled even more and nodded, "The feeling is mutual. I tend to save my formalities for the board room and that, currently, is the last place I want to be."

Cathy laughed slightly, leading him towards the house and smiling brightly. "Well then, I was just about to make lunch and the guest room is ready for you." As she started to tell him about the house and the ranch, Quatre couldn't help but spare a glance towards the barn. Worry briefly flitted through his mind for the other man, but beyond the barn his gaze looked towards the horse that stood in the paddock to find the mare had lifted her head to turn towards him.

"Quatre?"

"Oh," He looked towards Cathy and found her looking up at him questioningly. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm just still amazed by this place." He chuckled a little, then asked some sort of insignificant question to start up the conversation again.

He had a feeling that this vacation would be interesting, if nothing else.

_To Be Continued…_

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Author's Note:

This little plot bunny came to me while at work one day and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down. This doesn't mean that "The Price to Pay" is on hiatus or anything. Chapter 4 is about a third of the way finished and will be up within the next week or so.

Don't forget to review! It really does inspire me to write.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the plot idea! I'm just borrowing the characters to entertain myself and others.

Warnings: Swearing, slash, Quatre's dirty mind. *gasp!*

Pairings: 3x4 with 1x2, 5xSP, and 6x9 thrown in there! (Eventually anyway, really 3x4 centric)

Dedication: For **Bonnie Weasley** and **DesertPrince**~ without your kind reviews…I doubt I would have continued this story. Thank you!

Author's Notes at the end of the chapter.

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All the Wild Horses: Chapter Two

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Trowa came awake all at once, completely still and holding his breath for a second or two as he took in his surroundings. Fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan with the Special Forces had trained him to not move upon waking, as well as to sleep with his handgun beneath his pillow. Though he had been home from the war for nearly a year, his battle-honed instincts still tended to kick in when there was unfamiliar movement in his house or after one of his many nightmares. His hand reflexively squeezed around the butt of his pistol, finding the familiar object slightly comforting as he tried to analyze what had woken him.

Emerald eyes glanced to his clock, finding the time just clicking to five-thirty in the morning and he glanced towards the windows. Sure enough, there was a faint light on the eastern horizon and the larks began to trill outside, heralding the coming sun. The former soldier shifted slowly, raising up on his elbows as he looked around his room slowly and listened for the shuffling that had woken him.

There were soft footsteps outside his door and he instantly came to his feet, knowing that Cathy would never be up this early in the morning. Hell, his sister didn't stir until well after seven and he was already out in the barn by then. Palming his gun and flipping the safety off, he started towards his bedroom door and eased it open on its well-oiled hinges carefully, peering out into the hall. As he did so, he saw a slender man with soft blond hair start down the stairs as quiet as a mouse in an attempt not to wake anyone. It was then that he remembered they had a house guest on the third floor.

Trowa let out a slow, but deep sigh as he released the tension that had seized every muscle in his body and let go of his combat instincts. Moving silently across the wooden floor of the old farm house that had been in his family for generations, he slid his gun back beneath his pillow after setting the safety catch.

That idiot would have gotten himself killed. Hadn't Cathy told him that he was a war veteran? "Son of a bitch," He hissed softly and rubbed his forehead before dragging his hand down his face. The Special Forces operative began to get dressed for the day, pulling on an old pair of jeans and plain black t-shirt before starting down the stairs. Halfway down, he heard the front door open and shut and he nearly groaned out loud. Now what was the stupid CEO doing?

He quickly went down the rest of the stairs, taking two at a time before going out on the porch. Looking around, he frowned when he didn't see Quatre any where in sight. "The hell…?"

"Good morning," came Quatre's soft voice from the right side of the porch and Trowa walked over, looking over the railing to see the man stretching his calves against the side of the house. "I hope I didn't wake you."

Instantly, Trowa scowled and fixed him with an irritated look. "And what if you did?"

"I would apologize." The blond grinned sheepishly and shrugged a little, "I didn't mean to. I just wanted to go for a morning jog, that's all."

"Don't you city slickers usually sleep until well past dawn?" The man ran a hand through his sleep-mussed caramel bangs, looking down at Quatre with a raised eyebrow. "Even I don't usually get up this early unless I'm forced to."

"I couldn't sleep, unfortunately." Quatre grimaced a little, stepping back to fully to look up at the scowling man from the ground. He looked a little chagrined, his grin fading quickly. "Nothing wrong with the bed or anything, just my insomnia kicking in is all." He hastily attempted to reassure the stoic, prickly man in case he offended him.

All Trowa responded with was a grunt, looking over the man below him slowly and raised an eyebrow. Quatre was dressed in a pair of black sweatpants with a moss green zip-up sweatshirt, though his white sneakers looked beat up and dirty. "Where exactly are you jogging to?" The former soldier asked skeptically, looking at the businessman dubiously. He then snorted in a derisive manner. "You have no idea about the layout of the land, nor what to do if you come across a rattler or mountain lion."

That caused Quatre to frown slowly, his teal eyes beginning to turn stormy as Trowa's condescending manner began to get under his skin. "I might be from the city, Mr. Barton, but I'm not an idiot. I'll simply stay on the trails and turn back once I feel I've gotten a sufficient amount of exercise." He began to twist a little, stretching his torso muscles in agitation and he tried not to grind his teeth together.

"Hmph," Trowa shook his head, rolling his eyes, "Right. I'm pretty sure I'll have to ride out to find your city slicker ass and drag you back here by lunch." He started down the porch steps, walking towards the barn. "Have a nice run, city boy. Try not to get too lost out there and hope you know how to survive overnight." The brunette lifted a hand, not turning to look back at Quatre as he disappeared into the barn to start feeding the horses.

Quatre glared after him in annoyance, his jaw clenched before he turned and started jogging off down the trail. From the faint hoof prints in the dried dirt, he could tell it was a trail meant for riding on horse back and that meant that it was probably a decent trail to jog on. Deciding to stick with this one, he breathed easily in through his nose and out through his mouth as he kept an even pace over the field. However, his thoughts turned inwards as he began to stew about Trowa's less-than-friendly attitude.

What the hell was that man's issue anyways? No wonder why he and Heero were friends! If you could call something like that a _friendship_, anyways, considering that the two men seemed to equal each other on stoicism. At least Heero seemed to have developed a softened edge, thanks to none other than Duo Maxwell. The braided one tended to have that affect on people, after all, especially since Heero was one hell of a stuck up bastard when Quatre and Duo met him.

Though, he had to admit, Trowa's cutting tongue was almost preferable over how Heero had been cold and silent. At least one could surmise that the caramel haired man had a pulse and some sort of fire, where Heero had been nothing but an immovable ice block. A brief roll of teal orbs followed that thought as Quatre spoke aloud. "Allah knows that they must have made one hell of a Special Forces team."

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It was nearly an hour and a half later that Quatre jogged back into sight of the farm house, drenched in sweat as the early morning sunlight cast its rays on the little horse ranch. He was tired, that was for certain, as he slowed to a walk as he reached the barn and started to stretch out his muscles to prevent cramps. He was still panting, attempting to regulate his breathing but he felt a little more settled and ready to face his first official day on vacation.

Perhaps he could persuade Cathy to let him go grocery shopping in town? Or maybe he should see if she needed anything picked up and delivered? Maybe, he thought, he would ask Trowa to ride one of the more docile horses. He did know how to ride; his father had made sure of that when he was a child. Granted, he hadn't ridden a horse since his middle school days…but it was something that the body didn't forget, right?

He propped the ball of his foot up against the barn door, scowling as he thought about Trowa and stretched out his calves by pressing his weight against his foot. Remembering the hard, lean body pressed against his was what had kept him restless all last night. He had had his share of affairs, that was for certain, but it had been at least year if not longer since his last bedmate left. Of course, he had ways of releasing his sexual frustrations but it just wasn't the same when pleasuring another person and sharing the act of making love. However, Quatre had been so busy that he had really just temporarily satisfied his body's needs with his own hand in an empty release.

However, when laying down to sleep last night and remembering the press of the cowboy's strong body over his stirred memories and feelings to life that were better off being locked away somewhere. He didn't dare grant himself a swift, silent release in another person's home. It just didn't feel right and he felt so out of place still. So, he had tossed and turned as he tried to ignore the stirrings of arousal and the heat that simmered in the pit of his stomach like the smoldering of a banked campfire.

Another thing that had kept him wide awake last night was the merger negotiations between himself and the CEO of the Oz Organization. A sigh came from the blond, recalling Dermail's constant pressing to form an alliance and merge the two companies loosely together, saying that they both could make a bigger profit between Winner Enterprises' advanced technology and Oz's weapons development. A contract between the two companies and the government was also in the fledgling stages of being drafted, developing new technologies and tracking Taliban forces for the Homeland Security department.

Quatre groaned, rubbing his forehead as he started to walk around the side of the barn. There were so many complications and just mentioning the ideas to his father was damn near sending him off into another heart attack. Considering he often gave generous donation to Secretary of State, Relena Peacecraft, and his father was helping her efforts to end the multiple wars going on in the Middle East. The two of them shared views, since Hassim Winner was known for his strong opinions about war and politics. She was making some headway in ending the war and, when he had last had a casual lunch with her several weeks ago, she was thinking about running in the next Presidential Election.

Just as Quatre turned the corner, he heard the same shrieking call from yesterday come from the round pen just beyond the other side of the barn and it caused his head to lift. That mare was still in there? He frowned and peeked into the barn as he passed the open doors, not seeing Trowa at all in there and he looked towards the porch. Seeing that the coast was clear, he approached the fence just as he had the afternoon before.

The mare snorted and stamped, pacing back and forth in the pen, stalking the end of the fence like a possessed beast. She kept looking towards the far field, her golden eyes wild as it seemed like insanity was beginning to creeped into her mind. She whinnied again loudly, crying out towards the far field as several indistinct forms began to appear on the horizon's edge. First one shape appeared, and then several more shapes popped up as a small herd of horses meandered around the field to graze.

Sympathy flared to life in Quatre's chest, watching the mare's pacing pick up to nearly being frantic and he shook his head a little. "Why are they keeping you penned up in here?" He murmured, climbing the fence to lean against the top rail as he watched her gracefully trot back and forth. "It's not right, especially since you so obviously belong out there with them."

The dirt-covered horse slowly stopped her pacing, turning to look at Quatre and she snorted softly. She turned to face him fully, whickering at him in an almost curious manner. "Easy, pretty girl," Quatre smiled, meeting her amber eyes with his aquamarine gaze. Slowly, he lifted a hand out to her. "I can sort of understand where you're coming from, I guess."

She didn't move forward, nor did she move backwards but stood frozen on the spot facing Quatre. He slowly lowered his hand, but kept speaking to her with a gentle and quiet voice. "I know that I'll probably get into some serious trouble with Mr. Stick-In-The-Muck Trowa…but all you need is a little company, right?" He chuckled lowly, smiling. "I know how it feels, being trapped somewhere and no one really understanding. They think that it's the best thing for you, but it wears you down after a little while and then eventually breaks you."

He shifted, letting his chin rest against the top rail of the wooden fence and he sighed as the mare began once more to pace. "But when you try to put yourself back together again," Quatre closed his eyes, "you find that there are often too many pieces missing to be whole again."

* * *

Trowa had seen the blond businessman approach the round pen when he had looked up from his morning paper, nearly spilling his coffee as he started to stand and move to go stop him. However, a hand on his shoulder had stopped him and he looked up to find Cathy's amused sky blue eyes.

"Watch," She had said, letting go of his shoulder before moving to the large dining room window. The auburn haired woman stood there, crossing her arms and leaning a hip against the window sill. "Just watch and see what happens before you go storming out there like an angry bull."

Grumbling something about how he certainly was not an angry bull, Trowa walked to stand beside her and watched Quatre climb up on the fence and speak to the horse. When the mare slowed down her pacing and stopped screaming like a banshee, he frowned a little and then the mare turned to look at the innocent man when he held his hand out. Upon seeing the mare turn and freeze on the spot at seeing Quatre, Trowa stiffened and braced himself to watch the man get trampled by the wild horse.

Then imagine his surprise when Quatre lowered his hand and continued to talk to her, the mare beginning to start her pacing once more. His surprise didn't show on his face or in any of his body language, but it was there in his mind and the wheels in Trowa's head slowly began to turn as he tried to figure out what was going on. Emerald eyes narrowed as the blond settled his head on the fence railing to watch the dirt-caked mare continue to pace, yet she wasn't as frantic or wild as she had been before.

"What do you think about that, Tro?" Cathy looked at her younger sibling, tilting her head and brushed her auburn curls behind an ear. "Haven't you been trying to get that mare back from the brink of crazy for at least a week? I think Quatre's got something going on, considering he's doing in a day what you've been trying to do in a week!" She was absolutely amazed at the sight, before pushing off the window sill to the go to the front door.

"Hn," Trowa grunted a little, just to show that he heard his sister speak and he turned to head back to the dining table. He sat down, hearing his sister call in Quatre for breakfast and he sipped at his coffee. He began to start reading the newspaper again, but gave up after a few moments and simply stared at it instead when he found himself reading the same sentence four times in a row.

He looked up as Quatre passed by the door of the dining room. "I thought I told you to stay the hell away from the horses unless Cathy or myself were there." His voice was frigid and he watched the blond grimace, looking guilty as he faced Trowa.

"I apologize, but I thought she—"

"I don't give a damn about what you thought. Just stay the hell away from her unless I say otherwise." Trowa stated firmly, his face stoic as he lifted his coffee mug to his lips and lifted his newspaper. It was an effective dismissal for the house guest and he heard Quatre walked away. He just barely heard the other man's voice when he answered a question from Cathy in the kitchen.

The rancher glanced towards the dining room window, seeing the dust billowing up from the round pen and hearing very muted cries of anger from the horse. Trowa frowned a little, the wheels in his mind continuing to turn in thought. Perhaps, after a few experiments, Quatre would be able to prove that there was more to him than just a spoiled brat of a pampered city slicker.

_To Be Continued…_

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Author's Notes: And there ends chapter two! I had a little difficulty getting this chapter to flow correctly, but I think I'm satisfied with it. I will probably come back and edit it for minor things later on down the line though, just to make sure the story flows evenly.

Chapter three is currently being outlined and planned. I've got a decent idea of where I want this story to go, though it's not as clear as The Price to Pay. Speaking of which, the next chapter will be out soon. So, keep an eye on both stories!

Please read and review! Even if it's just to say that you were here or something like that. I really do appreciate them! I know I don't tend to reply right away, but I do read each review as they pop up in my inbox. So, please click the button below and review? Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Standard stuff- they don't belong to me…yadda yadda. I'm just borrowing them for some amusement.

*****Please note** that the rating has gone up because of Quatre's dirty mind. Yup, he's not _that_ innocent here.

Warnings: Yaoi, Slash, lots of swearing, sexual references, violence, probably angst, and possibly a little OOCness. If you don't like it don't read.

Author's Note at the end.

Dedication: To Dentelle-noir, AyameRose, Ebony Mitsu, and StandingOnTheRooftops. You all have inspired me to write in one way or another, be it your reviews or the tales that you have personally written. This chapter is for you. Thank you and may your muses always continue to whisper in your ear.

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Chapter Three

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Four more days went by with few run-ins between the blond businessman and the brunette ex-soldier, each man finding an excuse to not be in each other's presence. Quatre was an earlier riser, tending to go off for his morning jog at around six in the morning every morning, not returning until well after seven. By then, Trowa had already eaten breakfast and had hidden himself in the barn or he was out examining the herd, mending fences, or some other task that Cathy talked about. The only time the ranch hand showed back up was around dinner, then he disappeared into the barn until well after the rest of the household had retired for the evening.

Which was all perfectly fine for Quatre, considering that there was always some sort of sharp remark or warning about "staying the hell away" from the horses coming out of Trowa's mouth.

However, his traitorous body couldn't help but quiver a little when he thought about the taller man's weight pressing him back into the dirt on the first day he arrived. Every night Quatre seemed to toss and turn, his body restless and his groin one large, unrelenting ache that drove him to the brink of his patience and sanity. Even cold showers before bed didn't seem to help him at all!

Finally on his third night staying in the household, he rolled to his knees and took his erection in hand to stroke himself to completion, biting hard on the corner of the pillow he had stuffed in his mouth to remain silent as he came. Quatre had collapsed in a pile of trembling limbs, his hand still sticky with his fluids in his boxers as he came down from his high. The images of _Trowa_ thrusting into him as Quatre lay on his back, of _Trowa_ sucking his cock, and of _Trowa_ fucking him into the mattress from behind as his shouted his orgasm to the quiet room…all of those images had played and replayed in Quatre's mind as he got off.

He sighed a little as he descended the stairs from his morning shower, having just returned from running along the trails and he ruffled his wet golden locks. Quatre knew he was in serious trouble since he was physically attracted to the former Special Forces operative. The man had the personality of a doornail and the temper of an angry bear, making him want to shake Trowa so hard that his teeth would rattle. How the hell did he end up attracted to all the wrong people?

He pushed open the door to the front porch, knowing that Cathy was already gone today to go into town and the Trowa was off…well, somewhere. Quatre found himself alone on the ranch, shaking his brains for something to do and attempting to keep his sanity intact. It was fairly difficult to sit idle and let the time slip by when he had been so used to an insane amount of multitasking. Aquamarine eyes gazed out at the fields, leaning against the rail as he did so and a drawn out sigh came from him. As usual, his eyes were drawn to the mare's holding pen and he expected to see her pacing.

However, the mare was no where to be seen.

Concern instantly made his features darken and he walked down the front steps, starting towards the pen with a tilt of his head. Had Trowa taken her out of that blasted pen finally? She had been going stir crazy in that thing and the wildness had damn near taken her mind. Was the rancher beginning to finally train her?

His steps quickened as a heavy feeling settled in his gut, a sense of foreboding beginning to slither down his spine as he turned the corner to view the pen fully to find that the far part of the fence was broken. The two top rungs of the fence were splintered and cracked in half, blood staining the sharper points of the wood and there were hoof prints leading away from the pen towards the hills.

Quatre cursed harshly, turning towards the barn and heading for it quickly. "Trowa!" He called out, desperately hoping that the man was in here and he looked around. There was a single horse in their stall, but the rest were probably out to pasture and he looked around frantically. "Trowa, where are you!" He bit his lip, looking around.

"Allah above…" He whispered, debating on whether to saddle the horse that was in his stall or grab his jeep and follow the tracks. He turned, swearing loudly as he started to head for the house to grab his keys when he stopped dead in his tracks and spied something that would be more of use. An ATV was sitting in one of the partially built box stalls that seemed to have turned into more a storage area instead.

Weighing his options, he walked to the four-wheeler quickly and looked for the keys in the ignition. Not finding them there, he worried his lower lip with his teeth as he scanned the walls for the keys. "If I were as neat and anal as Trowa…where would I put the keys?" He wracked his brain, however his eyes landed on a key holder at the back of the storage area and he smirked. "Bingo."

Upon further examination of the keys, he found that most of them were dusty from sitting there for a long time. Between the dirty and cobwebs, he didn't think that any of the keys hanging there would be the one to operate the ATV. He stood on his tip toes, glancing at the top to find three more keys that looked as if they had seen more frequent use and he grabbed them. It couldn't hurt to give it a shot, could it?

The first key didn't work at all and he tossed it to the side, making a mental note that it landed in what looked like a grooming bucket that was full of currycombs and bristle brushes. However, he slid the second key home and turned it, letting out a whoop of triumph as the machine beneath him roared to life. He pulled out of the barn and pushed the four-wheeler as fast as he dared go over the rocky, uneven terrain that the wild horse had fled over. He had no idea why or where it had come from, but there was an urgency that drove him onwards to find this creature.

It could possibly be the fact that she was obviously hurt, Quatre contemplated as he continued to navigate over the crest of the hill. The bumps and holes that he hit jarred him so violently that he thought his teeth rattled in his jaw or that he would fall off the vehicle. He had only been on one of these things once or twice, since Duo was a serious motocross buff and owned a dirt bike and two ATVs. Even then, they hadn't gone nearly as fast as he was going now!

He crested another hill, stopping to look around and rub some of the dirt from his face and eyes. The dust that he had kicked up was thick and he could feel it cling to his still damp hair, making his scalp crawl a little but he ignored it in favor of the task at hand. Teal eyes peered out over the valley below, lifting a hand to shade them as the relentless sun cast its rays as it slowly made the daily trek across the sky. He could see the path the mare had taken but a second set of hoof prints joined hers, causing Quatre to frown. Had she found another wild horse? Was that causing her restlessness?

It was then an ear piercing shriek reached his ear, the familiar tone of the mare when she was in the round pen. Quatre took off down the steep hill, though he was very careful about how he maneuvered since the last thing he needed was to roll the ATV and get injured. As it was, he was sure that Trowa would beat him senseless or kick him off the ranch for using it without permission. He shifted down a gear, following the horse's cry as it echoed from the river that ran through the basin of the valley and the copse of trees that lined it.

What he saw there was not exactly what he expected.

The dirt caked mare had a lasso around her neck, the rope tangled in the brush and tree limbs around her. She had obviously reared, the knot had slipped and tightened around her elegant neck and she had flipped. The creature was damned lucky that she had strangled herself or broken her neck, evidently still very much alive and panicked as she pawed at the air, unable to get up because of the way her head was tangled. Quatre cut the engine to the all terrain vehicle just outside the tree line and approached on foot, surveying the scene more thoroughly as he approached.

The true surprise of the whole ordeal was seeing Trowa face down in a crumpled heap on the ground, his horse standing almost protectively over him and leaning down to nudge him every so often. The large, thick muscled horse pranced in place a little upon seeing Quatre, the beautiful red roan tossing his large head before nuzzling at his master once more. The half-shire whickered lowly, the dedication to Trowa obvious since he had not run off and was not grazing.

A soft curse came from Quatre and he moved to the fallen man's side, kneeling down to check his pulse and push the dark caramel locks from his face. "Trowa? Trowa, wake up!" He patted his face gently with his palm, yet no response came from the unconscious man. He leaned in a little lower, listened for his breathing for a moment before looking to the trapped mare once more.

Satisfied that the former soldier wasn't going to die, he set his focus on freeing the thrashing mare. He stood slowly and took a slow step towards her, licking his lips a little in nervousness. No, he shook his head a little as if to clear it, he couldn't be nervous. Horses were sensitive to emotions and would panic even more if she sensed that he was nervous as well. He focused on being calm and relaxed, his movements slow and he began speaking in a soothing voice to her.

"Easy, girl," He whispered, his teal eyes meeting her wild amber as he walked towards her carefully. Glancing away, he looked towards the tangled mess of the rope and wished he had thought to bring a knife. "Fine mess you've gotten yourself into, hm? Honestly, sweetling, you would think that you would know not to run into the brush and trees with something trailing behind you." He chuckled gently, the mare still thrashing about and he bit his lip a little.

Quatre continued to speak in that low pitch, reaching out snag the rope and a screech was all the warning he had before hooves lashed his way. He yelped, jumping back and falling to the ground hard on his ass. He grimaced, looking at her and swallowed thickly. This wasn't going the way he had planned at all, but he couldn't leave her there. A glance over his shoulder towards Trowa proved that he would be no help at all; the man was still unconscious.

Determination rose within him and the blond man stood slowly, careful to keep an eye on those hooves. "I'm only trying to help you," he murmured and then smiled just a little, "but then it's difficult to accept help when your mind is in such a state, huh? I know the feeling…all you want to do is run. You can't breathe, you can't think." The mare slowly stopped her thrashing, as if giving up the fight and ready to die.

It was then Quatre realized why he was so attached to the mare and why the connection was so deep. They were alike, trapped in inescapable situations and both on the brink of giving up hope. He met that amber gaze and he reached up slowly, beginning to untangle the rope.

Trowa stirred with a soft groan and lifted his head, opening his eyes as he did so. He couldn't believe that Heavyarms had spooked when that mustang mare had turned on them, lashing out with her hooves. The fiery horse had some unexpected fight in her when Trowa had hooked her with the lasso, both horse and rider expecting her to bolt rather than turn and try to fight. The gelding Trowa had been riding had reared, tossing his rider for the first time since he had been merely a green little colt. Perhaps that was why he hadn't tucked and rolled like he was trained to, his body and brain in too much shock that Heavyarms would _throw_ him to react.

He heard the huffing of an out-of-breath horse and he looked towards the mare, frowning upon seeing her tangled and seeing that slender city slicker trying to free her. Trowa shifted, gritting his teeth against the searing pain lancing through his body in stoic silence and watched the way Quatre approached her. The blond obviously didn't notice him moving, considering that his whole attention seemed focus on the mare while the horse's attention was entirely focused on Quatre's body language. Even if Trowa wasn't so adept at reading body language in both horses and humans, he would have been able to see the connection between the two and their spirits.

Each of them had a depth of despair to them that would have broken both of them if there hadn't been determination there and an iron will. Even after having that filly in the round pen for nearly two weeks now had dimmed her spirits, in fact it had made her fight harder. Quatre was the same, though there was more to that story than either he or Cathy were letting on to. Trowa held his breath, part of him almost afraid to break the spell that the horse and the man were under. One wrong move or noise would break it completely, putting both of them at risk if fear or panic should take their minds.

Quatre slowly unraveled the rope from the branches and began to detangle it from the brush, all the while talking to the mare quietly. "I know what it's like to feel as if you have no way out." He whispered, holding those dark amber eyes with his own and he smiled a little more as he saw the spirit in this animal. "But you can't give into panic, right? You're a fighter. You've got to be to have been on your own for so long."

With his task finished, he took a step back with the rope in his hands and watched the creature slowly get to her feet, then proceeded to shake out her coat in an action that caused dust and dirt to fly into the air. He chuckled softly and held out a hand towards the mare slowly, watching her sniff it a little and he stilled in surprise as she took a step forward. Quatre couldn't help but stare in dumbfounded amazement as she settled her soft, whiskered muzzle into his palm and whickered softly at him, blowing a huff of hot air onto his skin. A huge smile broke out on his face and his fingers carefully curled upwards, scratching her chin. "See? Humans aren't as bad as you think we are, now are we?"

Trowa smirked a little, bowing his head and letting out a gentle sigh. After a moment, he schooled his face back to its stoic mask before he spoke in that quiet tone of his that brooked no argument. "Well then," He murmured and stood slowly, suppressing a grimace of pain as it once again blossomed from the back side of his skull forward. He reached up a hand, patting Heavyarms' neck before raising an eyebrow at Quatre, "that settles it. You calmed her down enough; do think you can lead her back to the barn? We'll put her in the larger paddock with a lean-to shelter."

Quatre started a little, causing the mare to toss her head a little and whicker again. He looked at Trowa, his eyes widening. "Are you alright?" He asked, watching the cowboy mount up and he frowned. "You think you're okay to ride?" He looked at him worriedly, walking towards the rider and his horse, the mustang filly following a good distance behind him.

"It's nothing some aspirin and an icepack won't fix." Trowa stated, looking down at Quatre for a long moment and then extended his hand downwards. "Let's get back, there are a few things I need to talk to you about. No use in riding the ATV…it'll just scare the damned daylights out of her again anyways."

The blond man looked at the extended hand, a look of confusion on his innocent face making him almost seem like he was an angel and that caused Trowa to inwardly grin. It was an accurate description of the blond, the innocence and good radiating off of him in waves. As he felt the stronger but smaller hand slide into his, he aid Quatre astride the back end of the saddle and took the rope from him. After tying it securely around the horn of his saddle, he guided Quatre's slender arms around his stomach. Trowa had to note with surprise that those arms were leanly muscled, betraying the strength beneath the look of fragility.

"But what about the four-wheeler?" His voice was soft, concerned about the property he had borrowed without permission.

"Cathy or myself will get it later, but the horses are more important right now." Trowa stated, then made a soft kissing sound and the roan beneath them started to move back towards the house at a brisk walk.

They rode in silence for a long time, the large shire moving at an easy pace with the lighter built mustang trailing along behind them. When she started to raise a ruckus, Quatre merely turned and murmured some soothing, silly nonsense to her and she calmed under his influence. It was amazing that the filly still had some fight in her even after such a harrowing experience, Trowa thought hazily as he glanced over his shoulder at the blond man clinging to his waist.

His head hurt like the devil, but at least it distracted him from the feel of Quatre clinging to his back. Though Trowa was used to Heavyarms' larger girth, he had to bet that the smaller man moving along easily with the longer strides would be uncomfortable and sore later in places that the soldier was reluctant to think about under these circumstances.

It was just as they crested the last hill that Quatre broke the comfortable silence, the soft tenor of his voice easy on Trowa's ears. "Do you think we'll need to call a veterinarian for her?"

The concern about the little mare was obvious and he couldn't stop his heart from warming at the sound of it. If there was one way to get past Trowa's well built defenses around his heart, it was through his caring and passion about horses. He twisted slightly in the saddle, careful not to dislodge his passenger as he looked over the filly with a critical emerald eye.

There were scrapes and cuts under the thickly caked mud on her cannons, perhaps all the way up to her chest. It was difficult to tell because of the muck on her and, after watching her walk a few moments, he could see she was favoring her right foreleg just a small bit. It was difficult to tell really, but it was more than likely a sprain…though he would do a full run down just to check if he could get near her. There were probably bruising and rope burns around her neck from the rope, though he could treat those but he wouldn't know if there was any lasting damage. Trowa sighed, doing a mental tally and frowned a little. "The little miss will need her vaccinations anyways, as well as a few others in the herd. I'll call the vet this afternoon and see if she and her assistant can come out tomorrow."

Quatre finally pulled his gaze from the little sand-colored mare to look at Trowa, opening his mouth to speak. However, only a gasp came out and his eyes widened as he looked at the taller man. "Trowa, you're bleeding." He lifted his slender hand and touched a patch of matted, wet hair near the crest of his head. He frowned as Trowa flinched away under the contact, however he didn't let him move his head away. Quatre merely pressed his hand to the wound to apply some pressure to stop the sluggish bleeding.

"I'll be fine, it's probably just a scrape." Trowa frowned, flinching more from being touched than any pain. He could deal with wounds and pain; it wasn't that big of a deal to him. However, he liked his personal space and it was already bad enough that they were riding the same horse with Quatre's body brushing his were every step Heavyarms made. It was starting to get a little too much though. "It's almost stopped bleeding anyways," He continued, pushing the hand from his head gently and turned to face forward as they made their way towards the barn, "Leave it be. I'll be fine."

That earned a small frown from Quatre, however he didn't continue to push the issue and merely looked around. "So, which paddock were you planning on putting her in?" He asked nonchalantly, trying to keep his voice neutral and he glanced back at Trowa. His eyes lingered where the head wound was before looking back at the pretty little filly as she walked behind them. He made a soft, soothing noise in his throat as she began to get antsy and she was obviously afraid of being put in a small pen again. "I think she needs a larger paddock…she seems a little claustrophobic."

Trowa looked over his shoulder again, tugging on the reins and Heavyarms came to an easy halt, the gelding tossing his head a little and shaking out his mane. "Claustrophobic, hm?" The dark haired man murmured, raising an eyebrow at his passenger before looking towards one of the paddocks and he nodded to it. "Go ahead and put her in paddock three, there."

He pointed out a decent sized enclosure, probably about twice the size as the pound pen that she had broken out of earlier that day. "Let her loose in there, then toss a flake of hay in for her while I untack and curry out Heavyarms."

Quatre slid out of the saddle, looking up at Trowa with wide aqua eyes. "Me?"

The former soldier looked at him skeptically, the corners of his mouth tilting downwards in a grim frown. "No, I was hoping that she would walk her pretty little self in there and then break out in an Irish Jig." He deadpanned, then dismounted and rolled his eyes. "Of course you, city slicker, who else?" Rolling his eyes, Trowa led the roan gelding into the barn and disappeared from sight.

The sarcasm caused said city slicker to frown darkly and he cast a dark glower after Trowa as he walked away. "No reason to be so nasty about it." He muttered, "I was simply surprised." He sniffed a little in disdain, turning to coax the skittish mare into the large paddock.

It took a solid five minutes of coaxing to get her past the gate and yet another six or seven to get close enough to untie the lasso around her neck. The roped dropped to the ground as the mare shook out her entire coat, sending a cloud of dust and Quatre expected her to start her usual pacing along the fence line. However, she merely took a few steps away from him and watched him with amber eyes as he turned to leave the paddock in order to retrieve the hay. It was then that she lowered her head to the dirt, beginning her search for a few sparse blades of grass.

Trowa had just settled his large gelding into his stall when Quatre came in to get the flake of hay, turning to begin putting away the tack. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the blond start searching for the hay and disappear into the tack room by mistake. Merely shaking his head, he pushed some of his caramel colored locks from his face before starting to wipe down the bridle.

Needless to say, it took him by surprise a little when the blond man came out with the first aid kit and grabbed his forearm. It took every ounce of willpower not to twist the hold back on the smaller man and slam him into the wall, especially since his combat instincts were so close to the surface. Trowa hissed and turned on Quatre, losing a little bit of his temper. "Did Yuy ever fucking tell you not to sneak up on people?" His hissed harshly, emerald eyes flashing. "If I didn't know you were in the barn already I would have tossed you into a fucking wall."

He had expected Quatre to shrink back and fumble out an apology, but to his surprise the smaller man stood toe-to-toe with him in such a ballsy fashion that Trowa couldn't help but admire the way those teal eyes hardened into shard of aquamarine. "Do you really have to be such an ass about things?" He demanded, his words clipped and curt as the blond spoke, "There's no reason for you to be so on edge. All I want to do is help you since you and Cathy have had the kindness to grant me your hospitality. Although, I have to say, she's been much more welcoming than you have!"

"I don't need any fucking help." Trowa growled, his gaze clashing with Quatre's but the petite man would just not back down.

"Well, that head wound needs to be cleaned and disinfected. I'm trained in first aid and I'll do it for you since it's in such an awkward place on your head." He gestured towards one of the large wooden boxes where the grain was kept. "So will you sit down, shut up, and stop fighting me?" When Trowa just looked at him, the annoyance on his face shifting to his stoic mask again, Quatre just tugged on his sleeve. "Come on, it's the least I can do."

Unreadable emerald eyes looked at businessman, as if he were weighing him and judging him. Quatre met those emerald eyes without flinching and gave him a gentle pleading look, murmuring softly. "I'm not your enemy, Trowa."

It seemed as though time stood still and drew out for an indefinite amount, as if there was an internal war being waged for Trowa. Finally, emerald eyes shuttered closed for a brief moment and he pulled his arm from the slender hand that held it. For a moment, Quatre thought the cowboy would continue to resist as he started to walk away. Opening his mouth to try to call to him, he stopped halfway through Trowa's name as the man sat down on the feedbox, looking towards the blond once more. "Hurry up," The former soldier stated gently, "I've got a veterinarian to call and some horses to feed."

A triumphant grin flashed across Quatre's face and set his bright eyes alight, seeming to almost make the shimmering depths dance. Trowa had to look away in order to keep from being mesmerized by them, his slight attraction to the other man having increased by more than a little as the two of them stood at odds. He found that he liked seeing him all riled up and ready for a verbal sparring, Trowa mentally smiled and stayed still as his head wound was tended.

"You know," Trowa's voice was gruff and firm, laced with a steely edge that promised nothing but trouble, "I think that it's time you start earning your keep around here, Quatre." He looked up at him, schooling his expression to be stoic and impassive.

The blond looked at him in shock at his blunt tone, then color rose to his cheeks and creeped upwards to the edges of his ear. "O-of course," He stated, embarrassed and attempting to atone for what he looked at as a mistake. "I've been taken advantage of your hospitality after all. I apologize, I should have paid you—"

"I don't want your money." Trowa's voice came out harsher than he intended it two, visibly grimacing and clearing his throat. "What I meant to say is that you need to start pulling your weight…as in doing chores around the ranch, city slicker."

Again, Quatre gave Trowa a startled look at the harsh tone and then the explanation afterwards. Aqua eyes widened and an understanding flickered through that gaze before they narrowed in slight suspicion. "Like what?"

"Like feeding the chickens in the mornings and collecting eggs, as well as mucking stalls and cleaning tack." Trowa stated as Quatre began to place two butterfly band-aids along his scalp. "I want you to start helping Cathy around the house, as well as hauling water troughs to the lower fields near the river. Odds and ends that need to be done around here that need more than just one or two sets of hands."

Emerald eyes looked to Quatre, watching his face as the businessman seemed to weigh the options in front of him. "And if I decline?" He asked, not trying to be sarcastic but genuinely curious.

"Then you can get the hell off my farm and go vacation somewhere else. I don't tolerate slackers or half-assed jobs. You do it right the first time, or you'll redo it until myself or Cathy are satisfied…or your hands start bleeding and your eyes get sore."

Another few moments dragged on and Trowa watched his house guest think everything through. Then a smile curved his lips upwards and Quatre offered a hand to Trowa. "You, Trowa Barton, have a deal."

The tall man stood, his caramel hair once again falling into his face as he took the proffered hand and gave it a firm shake. "You had best get up earlier for your run because you start at six-thirty tomorrow morning."

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_To be continued…_

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Author's Note: Alright, I had not planned this chapter to be that long. Honestly, it sort of took on a life of its own over the past few days. I actually tried to stop it at the river scene for a little more suspense, but it just didn't settle right. I was worried about flow, but it seems to flow okay.

Sorry for the long wait as well. Life has gotten a bit hectic with a new work schedule and I don't have much time to write until just before bed for about an hour or so. I tend to relax with a cup of tea and write a little, sometimes writing two to three pages to maybe two or three paragraphs. It all varies on the day and how well my brain decides to work.

However, I hope the chapter lives up to your expectations after such a long time! Enjoy and look for another update relatively soon!

Don't forget to read and review! It makes me a happy author and helps me write a little more, as well as update faster.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Not mine, sorry. I'm just borrowing them for my entertainment, as well as others. I make no money from them, I swear!

Author's Note at the end!

Dedication: To everyone who has this on Story Alert and who has stuck with me so far! This chapter is for you...I'm sorry it's so late!

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Chapter Four

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Quatre sank down into his bed, groaning aloud as his muscles protested any sort of movement at all and the soreness that he had been beating back the past three days finally won. Teal eyes glanced towards the door, knowing that he should really get up and take a hot shower, but even the knowledge of the fact that the stiffness would be worse later couldn't make him get up.

He had thought that he was in decent shape; he exercised daily with his morning jogs and ate healthy, well balanced meals. There wasn't an ounce of extra fat on him as his body was toned and lean. He had easily figured that he would be able to take on the rigorous schedule that Trowa had set without this soreness, having thrown himself into his work without a care.

He had seriously been proven wrong.

The blond man had realized that while jogging was great to keep fit, it did nothing to prepare his muscles for heavy lifting and repetitive motions. Shoveling piles of horse shit into a wheelbarrow did that, causing a great deal of aching to radiate through his shoulders, arms, and upper back. The first three or four stalls that Quatre had mucked out hadn't been quite so bad…but by the time he was cleaning out the fifteenth and final stall, he was in some serious pain. He didn't mention it to Trowa as he was ushered off to haul out the dirty water buckets, clean them and then fill them before setting them back in their proper places in the stalls.

Quatre had found as long as he kept moving and as long as he kept his mouth shut, the soreness could be ignored. He continued on with his list of chores given to him by Trowa: hauling in the water basins from the field to be scrubbed, tossing hay bales out to the horses in pasture, and the list of things went on from there. Honestly, he found that he didn't mind doing all of these things. In fact, it had felt damned good to be doing some physical labor and he found that he preferred it over sitting at his desk in the office.

The first day Trowa was tolerable and Quatre suspected that the caramel haired man was being rather lenient considering that the blond was picking up on the routine. On the second day, Quatre had slept through his run and was woken at six thirty by a rather grumpy cowboy glowering at him and roughly shaking him awake. It had caused him to topple out of bed, scrambling for his clothing and rushing off to change even as his body screamed at him from the soreness.

Trowa had been a little more waspish through the second day, closely inspecting Quatre's work and pointing out little things that he could have done better. It wasn't too bad and he quickly picked up on the little details and continued on with his task. He tolerated the critical remarks with an even temper, just letting the little comments roll off his back like water on an oil slick.

However, the third day was when it started to get even worse. Trowa had ridden his ass all day, pushing him to the brink and almost making Quatre want to quit or breakdown into tears. The ex-soldier had made him muck out six stalls three different times until he was satisfied with it, making scathing remarks about how he'd seen a seven year old clean a stall better than him the first time around. The day had only gone down hill from there when Quatre's foot slipped on some of the wet, tightly packed clay of the barn floor. He rolled his ankle and fell into the wheelbarrow full of horse feces, causing the entire thing to tip over into the hay bales.

The taller man had been furious, making Quatre pick out all the horse crap from the hay area and then had him using the contaminated hay as bedding for the hogs. By the time he had finished those two tasks, the dark clouds that had been lurking in the sky had decided to open up and rain torrents of water down on the already dirty businessman. If his mood hadn't been dark enough, it hit rock bottom when he had slipped trying to get out of the pig pen, further injuring his already weakened ankle. He had come out of the pen covered head to toe in mud and pig muck, frustrated and angry.

When he made it back to the barn, Trowa had taken one look at him and sighed, obviously frustrated with Quatre and he sent the blond off to the house for a shower and clean clothing. When the blond man had returned to the barn in clean clothing and freshly showered nearly an hour and a half later, he found the remainder of his tasks done to perfection and in obviously less time than it took for the blond to do it. That had just been salt rubbed into his already wounded pride. The slender blond closed his eyes at the humiliating memory of yesterday, rolling over to press his face into his pillow. He had hit his breaking point with Trowa today and his temper had snapped with the attractive man.

Quatre continuously scrubbed at the last saddle, running the soft cloth over the shiny leather and he smiled a little as the little metal ornaments on the horn took on a shine. He admired his work, having spent the late morning cleaning each of the seven saddles and ten bridles that were in the tack room. Trowa had instructed him how to do it, much like Mr. Myagi's ideal of 'wax on, wax off' from the Karate Kid.

He settled the saddle on the rack, standing with a slight grimace and soft groan as the stiff muscles in his back began to spasm a bit. He had been working the leather and scrubbing the shiny bits clean all morning, making sure to get every tiny crack and crevice devoid of dirt. If he said so himself, all of the saddles and bridles looked damned near new.

He wiped his forehead, looking over his shoulder as the tack room door opened and the rancher stepped in. Trowa was covered from head to toe in dust and grime, obviously having been training one of the greener horses in the round pen. Quatre smiled slightly, looking at the brunette as the man examined his hard work. However, that smile dimmed and faded when there was only a slight head shake.

"There's soap residue on several of these," Trowa stated, gesturing to a few of the saddles and bridles. "It's dried on and it'll cause a rider to slip out of the saddle. Do them again."

Inwardly, Quatre screamed denial and cursed in several different languages. His only outward reaction was to blink and look to the offending equipment. "Just those ones?" He asked, "No problem."

Trowa looked over at Quatre, frowning and shaking his head. "No, redo all of them. If you've left residue on one, they're bound to be on the others. Do it right this time." He turned leave, brushing by the blond as he bowed his head.

The slender man clenched the rag in his hand, his fist trembling as he closed his eyes. His temper and blood pressure rose, causing his head to ache and he could feel his blood pulse in the back of his eyes. Inhaling, he turned and looked to Trowa. "No." He voice was firm and calm, the tone he used at the office more than several times a day.

It was that which caused Trowa to stop, turning to look at him in surprise and raised an eyebrow at him. "What?"

Quatre threw down the rag at the cowboy's boots, snarling loudly. "I said no! I've been busting my ass for you for the past three days and you continually tell me to redo everything that I've done every fucking time!" He knew he lost the control on his temper when he started swearing, but at this point he just simply didn't care. "I've been here a fucking week and a half, yet all you've done is yell at me and put me down. You continually make me feel worthless and you can't even cut me some slack when I'm new to this shit! It's fucking driving me insane!"

Trowa seemed to take it all in stride, turning to face the slender blond as he continued ranting and he merely crossed his arms over his chest. His calm, emerald stare took in every nuance of Quatre's expression; finding his aqua eyes lighting up and throwing sparks as he went off. "Go on."

However, the calm exuded by the former Special Forces soldier seemed to only incite Quatre more. "Heero arranged for me to come here to get away from stress! Yet, here I am, finding myself out of sorts and even more stressed out than I am at the office. You fucking don't like my work? Fine then, show me a different way to do it or fucking correct it while I'm doing it so I don't have to redo it _after_ I've just spent all that time doing it the wrong way!"

It was then that emerald eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but Quatre certainly didn't notice. "If this is your way of breaking me enough to stay out of the god damned barn, then just say so! I get the point; you don't want me around the horses and you don't want me in the barn. I'm sorry, alright? I'll stay the fuck out of the way, but damn it all, just say so!" He took a few deep breaths before continuing on his tirade, his volume coming back down to a normal level as he stalked towards the door, "I get the picture, you don't want me here. That's fine, all you had to do was say something."

He could feel Trowa's eyes on him as he brushed past the taller man, stalking out of the barn and towards the house. He paused, turning to walked backwards and said, "I'll be out of your hair by breakfast tomorrow, Trowa. I'm not going to stay somewhere where I'm not wanted and looked on as a burden. You can consider your debt to Heero paid; I'll tell him I had a good time and that everything is fine while I go some place nice…like Fiji or something."

The blond stalked into the house and slammed the door behind him, ignoring the quizzical look from Cathy in the living room where she was ironing clothes and folding the laundry. He had stalked up the stairs and slammed the bedroom door in a satisfying display of temper, then began pacing the floor until said temper cooled and his muscles began to ache.

And here is where Quatre found himself; on his bed and staring at the ceiling. He didn't want to face Trowa at dinner tonight, he felt too embarrassed about his outburst as it was. It was rare for him to lose his temper like that and he could still feel the judgmental stare that had followed him all the way back to the house, the feeling akin to twin holes being burrowed into his shoulder blades. He groaned aloud, tossing an arm over his eyes and he sighed. "Well," He asked himself, "now what, Quatre?"

"Why don't you explain to me why you're here?" came the soft, tenor voice from the doorway and it caused Quatre to sit up, looking at the long and lanky form of Trowa as he stood in the door. "And allow me to apologize for the way I have been testing you."

He couldn't help but stare at the brunette, looking at him as if he had grown a second head that was speaking to him. The moody blond shook his head and ignored the question, asking one of his own instead. "Testing me?" He asked, his voice incredulous as he stood to face Trowa, "What the blazes do you mean by that?"

"Exactly how it sounds," Trowa shrugged, as if that were all the explanation that he really needed. It caused Quatre to lift a hand, resting his forehead in his palm and audibly groan in frustration. It was no wonder why he and Heero were such good friends; they both hardly ever spoke and, when they did, they were so vague that only the two of them thought they made sense!

Seeing the blond man's reaction, the cowboy let loose a soft sigh and elaborated on Quatre's behalf. "I was testing not only your patience, but your endurance and attention to detail. I needed to put you in different situations and evaluate your actions, as well as your reactions under different types of pressure."

Inwardly, Trowa smirked in amusement at the level and annoyed look the blond gave him. "You might as well have just sat me down in yet another board of directors meeting, considering that's what they do all the time." Quatre deadpanned, obviously not amused in the least and walking forward to stand toe-to-toe with the brunette. "Pushing my buttons to see how I'll react is exactly the sort of underhanded—"

Lifting a slender hand, the ex-soldier pressed two fingers to the other man's lips to effectively end his tirade. Mentally taking note of the delicate flush that spread across Quatre's cheeks, he continued his explanation. "I am sorry for what I put you through, however it was necessary to do so because I physically needed to see the extent of your patience." He lowered his fingers slowly, only to tuck said fingers beneath Quatre's chin to tilt his head upwards slightly. "Quatre, I'm giving you a special project to work on. I wouldn't trust it to just anyone, but after seeing how hard you work and your patience, I'm doing this. Understand?"

Dazedly, the blond bobbed his head in muted assent and then Trowa stepped backwards. Silently, the man gestured for Quatre to follow him and he did so. His mind was too busy trying to process the exchange between them as they headed down stairs and outside, pausing long enough for the confused blond to pull on his shoes. He couldn't figure out this sudden change in Trowa…nor could he wrap his head around the fact that he had just apologized!

"Trowa…?" Quatre questioned, following the tall man as he was led towards around the barn and the paddock beyond it. They stopped at the fence and the blond found himself looking at the mare he had been so drawn to during his stay on the ranch. He smiled for a moment, watching her graze before turning to look at him once more. "What's going on?"

Emerald eyes looked down at him and a small smile curved the cowboy's lips, causing Quatre's mouth to go cotton dry. "You've got a bond with her, Quatre," He spoke quietly, though the mare lifted her head to look at them both hesitantly. "I'm going to need your help if we're to get her ready for the saddle and to be ridden. You can do what I can't with her."

He stared at Trowa, his jaw going slack in shock and the brunette's lips curled upwards in a faint smirk of amusement. The cold hearted bastard was going to let him help train the filly? Instantly, Quatre grew suspicious and he narrowed his eyes as he searched Trowa's face. A grim frown caused his lips to quirk downwards as he met the rancher's emerald green gaze and his voice was acerbic. "You're shitting me, right? Not even four days ago you were yelling at me to stay away from her. Yet here you are now, saying that I'm going to be working with her?"

"She's starting to trust you," He said, his quiet spoken words straight forward and looked towards the mare. "She sees something in you, something that no one else can." The rancher looked at Quatre again, his gaze steady. "And, believe me, I'm not shitting you."

The blond hesitated a long moment, then looked out into the paddock to watch the sleek mare graze. Her ears twitched, one of them cocked back in their direction while the other flicked to and fro in order to catch the sounds around her. A small smile curved his lips, feeling his tension slip away from him as he watched the graceful creature.

It was in that moment that he made his decision.

"Alright," Quatre murmured, his eyes not leaving the paddock, "I'll work with her."

As the other man agreed, an unseen smile flickered across Trowa's face. It was gone as soon as it had come, however. "Excellent," His voice was quiet, his gaze on Quatre. The horse and trainer were well matched, both having similar qualities that he could see. Both had a fire in them, something that couldn't be tamed…even blind man would be able to see that. However, there was something about each of them that needed to be fixed: their trust in humans.

That caused Trowa to be curious, for while the business man never said why Heero sent him here…he could tell that there was something in Quatre that was wounded and needed mending. He wasn't a fool; he had seen the same types of wounds in his fellow soldiers while serving overseas. It wasn't a physical wound that could be healed by medicine, but a wound that could be healed through time and through helping hands. This, Trowa knew quite well, that a companionship with a horse could provide.

"Only one more thing," Trowa looked out at the filly and back to him. "She needs a name."

Quatre smiled slowly and the former soldier found that his breath caught in his lungs as the blond looked to him. While there were those who smile with their mouth or with their eyes, Quatre was the sort of person that smiled with everything in him.

"Her name is Sandrock," Aqua eyes met emerald and the air rushed from the brunette swiftly, causing him only to nod in response. "It suits her, don't you think?"

Trowa broke his gaze and looked towards the palomino, nodding slowly. "It does," He murmured.

The blond watched Trowa for a moment longer, "When can we start?"

"Tomorrow. We'll begin tomorrow."

* * *

_To be continued…_

* * *

Author's Note: And so ends chapter four! I am so very sorry for the long wait! It's been a rough six months with details I won't go into. I hope it was worth the wait, since I wrote the ending threes times and it still doesn't sit right with me. I hope it's up to your expectations. Updates are sporadic, but I hope you'll continue to stick with me and with all of my stories. There will be endings, (some happy and some sad) no matter what!

Thanks everyone!

_Please read and review? It fuels the plot bunnies.  
_


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